Red Wine
by Anna Tramell
Summary: Not always one to plan things carefully, Severus Snape takes up responsibility as both Headmaster of Hogwarts, as well as Harry Potter's caretaker when the boy manages to get caught by Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy's frequent visits don't help matters. Written in Snape's POV. LMHP, HPSS.


Red Wine

"_...All of life is but a dream_

_And dreams are nothing but dreams."_

"...So you're keeping Harry Potter as a pet?" Lucius summed up.

"Yes, something like that," Severus said slowly, glancing warily at the man on his bed, who was touching the boy with some kind of imagined familiarity.

Lucius grinned at the sleeping boy, a positively evil expression when upon his face. He leaned forward and brushed the black strands away and traced the scar underneath in wonder. "If the Dark Lord knew..." he breathed, at the same time that Harry leaned into his touch and whatever he had meant to say, was lost in his amusement. Severus turned to the wall, letting the irritated lines across his face smooth over into cool indifference. How like the ignorant boy to snuggle right on up with the enemy, and chalk up the actions of a savior with notions of duty.

"I understand the risks at hand for my actions."

"You always do," Lucius said soothingly.

Severus tried to reassess the current situation, seeing if he might have a miscalculation, but there was no mistake he was aware of; Severus Snape was a fairly confident person. Lucius had become paralyzed from seeking power while in the bond to servitude to the point of reaching neutrality. While his person and possessions were being threatened, his loyalties were debatable. Right now, Lucius had nothing to gain in Voldemort, but certainly everything to lose. Under Harry Potter, there was hope of freedom, and when all else failed, it was a fail-safe plan to disappear off the face of the Wizarding World until everything blew over.

Under Harry Potter, this war could be over.

For these reasons, he felt safe in letting the man discover Harry Potter in his office, letting him on that it was _he_ who had a hand in sending an eager house elf to bring him from the sadistic hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and to a most unlikely safehouse: the very bedchambers of the both the formerand current Headmaster.

Although, a large part of Severus wanted to just insure complete safety and thrust the Malfoy under the Imperious. Try and let him go to the Dark Lord then! Try and let him molest the boy any further in front of him! But it was a thin line he was walking with Lucius, so he kept quiet on the latter matter.

Harry stirred finally from sleep, his wild green eyes snapping open. They sought first Snape, watching him, only momentarily relieved before recognizing whose hand was on his person and he jerked away quickly.

"Oh," Lucius crooned disgustingly, in the sort of tone you'd adopt to a wary kitten. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You-" Harry shrieked.

"I gain nothing in hurting you," Lucius said softly, ridiculously calm.

"It's true," Severus said, if anything to relax the boy. "Mr. Malfoy has no qualms against you."

"Then why is he touching me," he hissed. Lucius looked disappointed.

"I had meant for it to have been soothing, and I would have to say it worked, as your first reaction wasn't to jinx me into oblivion - as our previous encounters have been suggestive of."

"Yeah, but-" he made a frustrated sound, then turned to Snape. "Is it too late for breakfast?"

"Far too late, but dinner might be suitable."

Harry went from relieved to sudden unease; he glanced sideways at Lucius, looking rather nervous. Snape forced himself not to roll his eyes. Did he have particulars to people watching him eat? "I imagine Narcissa is missing you," Severus addressed to Lucius.

"She might be," he said fondly, "but I can see when my company is no longer in want."

He pressed his lips to Harry's forehead and vanished. Harry scrubbed at the spot until it was quite red. "Dobby use to be his house-elf," he offered by way of his discomfort. "Didn't want them to run into each other."

This was about the house-elf? "Lucius wouldn't have minded," Severus said, exasperated

"But Dobby would've!"

This time, he did roll his eyes. He snapped his fingers commandingly and Dobby appeared with a tray toppled high with a variety of dishes. Harry ate eagerly and resumed his usual ignoring of the affairs of his constant savior.

* * *

"How long till you hand-deliver me to Voldemort?" Harry greeted him at the door with, arms crossed tightly. Severus deliberately made a show of resting his wand on a table, turning to look Harry in the eye with matching stance.

"Don't you think that defeats the purpose of saving you from Bellatrix?" He parried.

"So you want to be the one to do it? And what about Ron and Hermione? Where are my _friends_?"

"To my knowledge, they are _safe_ and you are _safer_."

Harry snorted. He looked around the room. He sighed heavily. "But you're just going to tell me that killing Dumbledore was some big elaborate scheme to eventually killing Voldemort, is that it?"

Severus nodded to the pensieve. "Would you like the see for yourself?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Memories can be tampered with."

"They can be," he acknowledged, "However's it's fairly obvious when they are." Severus hand-picked the vials he was sure that would catch Harry up. Then, as an afterthought, he extracted a memory from himself, of matching scenes. Dumbledore himself had set these memories himself to ensure Severus's safety after the war – that is, if he lived. He showed Harry his remorse, showed Dumbledore's explicit request. He even showed Harry Dumbledore's death in his eyes. Then he left Harry to his own devices.

* * *

Harry spent most days poking through Dumbledore's memories or skimming the spell books around, scratching notes into spare bits of parchment. While the chair across from Snape's desk would no doubt be more comfortable than the floor, Harry seemed to despise being so close to him and only sacrificed for comfort when it came time for bed - and he was sure to scoot to the far end and place his back to him. Ladies and gentlemen, The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Ungrateful.

Conversations were fair and few in between, thankfully. Occasionally, Harry would beg him to let him out on the grounds, under the cloak. Such requests, he was deaf to after the first three days. Harry would then take to noisy fits tossing things about and sighing heavily.

Lucius Malfoy began to visit with increasing frequency; only then did Harry seem to calm down his mini tantrums. Lucius kept him entertained with ridiculous stories, some about Draco (to Harry's delight), and deftly dodging away from all conversation about You-Know-Who. Sometimes they placed a game of Wizards's chess, all of which he was (grudgingly) grateful for a bit of peace. Lucius was how they tolerated one another's company the first few weeks.

* * *

Severus tried to understand when Harry explained what Dumbledore had told him, but Harry was an unreliable source and none of his own books (or Dumbledore's, for that matter) so much as mentioned the word "horcrux." Harry had talked about the memories he'd seen, which Severus had seen for himself when Harry located the vials still tucked in the case beside the pensieve, and had explained what had really happened when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, finishing with a list of what they still needed to find.

"But how can you be sure there's seven?" Severus had asked, while a sickening realization had begun to set in his mind.

"I can't," he says miserable. "but that's the best idea we've got."

Harry had been hopeful that Voldemort had given something - _anything_ - to the new headmaster, but it went to show how little the Dark Lord trusted him.

"Where does he think I am?" Harry had asked on another occasion, in the one of very few conversations they had.

"Escaped," Snape said dismissively.

Harry stared longingly out the one window in the room.

"Need I remind you that I'm trying to keep you _alive_."

"I know," he said dully.

"You're frightening the boy," Lucius was quick to intervene, who had been making more and more of a appearance there. "Oh, Harry..." he cooed, coaxing him to his chest; Harry accepted the warmth so easily. He had been doing so for days now. Snape only had to wonder what more would go in if he didn't constantly supervise the man's perverse actions.

Having visibly calmed Harry down, Lucius smoothed down his hair and planted a kiss. Snape shot a glare at him.

Lucius said conversationally, "Well, we always knew you were a traitor."

"He'll kill me anyways," Snape reasoned coolly. It was, after all, only a little while before Voldemort noticed the wand wasn't reacting to him as strongly as it should and a further logical progression that he would notice who had wrestled the wand for him. Or perhaps it had been his plan all along?

Harry jolted upward. "Don't say that! We're all going to survive."

Severus laughed outloud. Merlin, did he still think he was going to survive all this? Lucius covered the boy's ears from the cruel sound his mouth made, having at this point also somehow succeeded in bringing Harry halfway onto his lap. And in seeing so, the laughter died on his lips, even as Harry swatted at Lucius's hands, only making Severus feel a little better.

* * *

Sometimes Severus returned to the small space and Harry was taking a nap or staring out the window, other times with his hands folded apparently "doing nothing." Still other times he was being entertained by Lucius. Rarely was he nose-deep in a book, but that too occurred in extreme fits of boredom. Today, he snapped the book shut as Severus was removing his scarf and outer coat.

"How was your day?" Harry asked.

Severus glanced sideways at him. Was he making peace? Truly running out of things to do? "How do you think it was?" he asked quietly, summoning a teapot and cup to his desk. "You know... the way McGonagall looks at me." He seemed to be carefully choosing his words. "Well, she must have considered us friends at some point, really. In this current situation... she thinks I like sitting in his old chair at the Great Hall."

Harry perked up. "Well, why can't you let her on with the truth?" he asked, as if such a suggestion would be utterly life-changing.

"For my peace of mind? I-"

"For hers too!" Harry cut in eagerly.

"I've weighed the situation already," he finished firmly. "It's better to be treated in such contempt."

No argument would sway him. Harry sighed defeated. "It's still not fair to you."

"I imagine that you would be enjoying my current situation," Severus returned, nursing the warm cup.

Harry looked startled, visibly so he had to push his glasses back into place. "Well, I mean, if I knew you were on _our_ side the whole time-"

He barked with sudden laughter. "Come off your high horse, Golden One. I'm talking about a personal vendetta. I made your life hell - and I thoroughly enjoyed doing so. I've bullied your entire house for years."

He looked uncomfortable. "All right, you're a bastard. But you still don't deserve all this."

"Lucky me, I have you to tell me so."

This put an abrupt end to Harry's attempts of polite conversation for quite awhile.

* * *

Sometimes Severus was oh-so-lucky to walk in on one of Lucius's games, one of which featured cherries and strawberries and far too much touching. With one hand, he'd ghost across the boy's chest, the other busy feeding him. And Harry in turn would grin and serve him back, grinning happily with juice dribbling down his lips. Lucius dared to lap it up, pausing at his lips.

"Oh, dear, hope I'm not interrupting anything," he drawled out, unable to stay silent any longer.

Unperturbed, Lucius turned his charm in his direction. "Oh Severus, do come join us."

Harry glanced over, looking a little off. Drunk? Severus pursed his lips.

"I really hope you haven't drugged him. There's more than enough problems on my plate."

"Why do you always assume such things? _You're_ certainly not immune to my charm."

Snape rolled his eyes and went for the safety of his desk, Lucius following with his eyes. "These inane games - you're not wearing that wretched perfume of yours, are you?"

"I hardly think it would ellicit this type of response. Open wide, Harry." He grinned, Merlin he looked happy - drunk, he corrected mentally. And the flush on his cheeks was telling. "Oh, I really could eat you right up! May I?"

Harry's gaze drifted over the Severus, then back to his classmate's father. He wrapped his arms around the man, careful not to pull on his hair and leaned close. Severus tried to block out the wet smack of lips, the soft whimpers, the entire affair.

"You could get in some real trouble with a face like that."

"You'll take care of me, though, won't you?" Harry teased.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, diving for another round of debauchery.

After such sessions, as they became more numerous and disturbing, Harry would shower, return and take to staring at the window or some other activity as if no such thing had occurred.

When Severus finally confronted the whole affair to Lucius, the man smirked and returned with "But why does it upset you so?" and for some reason, the steam left him and he could only give his best glare with a meaningless command: "_Behave yourself_"

* * *

Sometimes Harry would stare at Dumbledore's portrait and wait for hours for any sort of movement: a sly smile, a wink, a greeting even.

"It's like he's still alive," Harry had said softly.

"It's a cheap imitation, Harry."

The portrait chuckled; Snape ignored it.

"But it's really just like him," Harry insisted.

"He's no more alive than the photographs of your parents."

From the corner of his eye, the Dumbledore portrait beamed gleefully still and an unnerved Harry finally looked away.

"Voldemort doesn't come here, does he?"

"For God's sakes, don't say his name."

That shut him up properly.

"He doesn't," Snape assured. "While it's well known who Hogwarts belongs to, he hasn't come to the grounds himself and made it official to the public. And even if he wanted to, he would have to contact me in order to lower the wards - the ones keyed specifically to his magic. By which time, you can bet McGonagall will have something to say about that. No, it's far too much trouble for him."

Harry propped his chin on his crossed elbows, set on the back of the chair.

Snape stood abruptly. "I need to survey the grounds."

He stared at the floorboards moodily. "I can't help, can I?"

"Concentrate on staying alive, Harry Potter. Please."

* * *

Maybe a bit of himself felt guilty for giving the boy nothing to do, but mostly he was beginning to get suspicious over the types of activities a young man would occupy his time with.

"What do you do all day?" Severus asked.

Harry jumped whenever he spoke. "I touch all your things," he said promptly.

Severus shot a glare at him, letting a stack of papers drop onto his desk with a _thump_. One of his cabinets did a fact seem to be left opened slightly. "I see you've come across the detention slip archive."

"Oh yeah, that was last week," Harry said, grinning. "I had 57 total detentions with you - did you notice?"

"There's also an archive for point totals," he taunted, pulling another file from the cabinet. "Care to guess how many points you were responsible for losing?"

Harry struck his hands behind his back and peered curiously over.

"It's all in your file." He waved it tauntingly. "Along with teacher evaluations, career notes-" Harry snatched it, then leaned against the desk and flipped through the papers ignoring most of them in favor for the point totals. "Ha! That toad took away so many points in our fifth year. Thought I lost more with you, though, overall" He closed it off. "Can I see Ron's and Hermione's?"

"Have at it. It'll keep you busy." Snape showed him how to call up the files, and replace them once more, swearing to saw his legs off personally if they were misplaced. Harry was entertained for all but the rest of the day.

* * *

Some nights Harry gravitated across the imaginary line of their bed and rested his head against Severus's back. Severus was never sure whether Harry was awake or in deep-sleep, mistaking his person for another, but nevertheless he had trouble sleeping and would remain still until exhaustion took him over.

One night Harry rolled toward him to meet Severus face-to-face. This was deliberate on both parts.

"_He'_s happy," Harry said softly. The skin about his scar was angry-red and raised. "Can't sleep."

If he was Lucius, Severus would've tried to soothe him with a gentle kiss or of the like and he seemed sorely in need of some sort of comfort. Instead, he found a Dreamless potion on his bed-table, muttering "I wouldn't sleep either."

The young man in his bed drank it down quickly without question and lay back with closed eyes, taking deep breaths. Severus acknowledged how little he could relate to Harry's situation. Tentatively he crossed the imaginary line himself and Harry curl against his chest. He waited until Harry's breathing evened out before he closed his own eyes.

The next day, Lucius marked Harry with love-bites across his collar bones, which Severus ignored and Harry equally pretended didn't exist. Severus vowed to make a more conscious effort to bring Harry books.

* * *

"Are you sleeping with Lucius Malfoy?" Severus finally asked. The question shot out of him near March without warning, but Harry didn't so much as flinch.

"I'm just having a bit of fun," Harry replied neutrally. "What does it matter?"

"It's my bedding."

"We clean up after ourselves."

That earned him the eyebrow.

"We didn't," Harry corrected, then adding, "And I don't want to."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Look, I'd rather- I just.. don't. Not _that_. Just having a bit of fun."

"That's your idea of fun, is it?"

"Well, what's yours?"

"I don't have fun."

Harry folded his arms, scrutinized him. Snape glared back.

"You like to dress in drag and do the hula," He decided, delivered with a straight-face.

In spite of himself, Severus actually snorted and Harry looked satisfied.

"You can at least have a good laugh," Harry noted. He brought the teapot to the other man just as he had finished draining the cup, then returning to his seat on the floor.

* * *

"Up," Severus grunted. In his arms was Harry's cloak. "We're going for a walk outdoors."

"For real?" Harry gasped. "Are you putting me on?"

"I'm not. Are you ready to see Hogwarts?"

Harry fastened the cloak against him, hooking his arm around Severus's from behind without so much a thought. They picked up a rhythm to walk together that was leisurely and almost comfortable. Harry's grip on his arm tightened when a group of first-years darted past. Severus led him toward the grounds, where the grounds were nearly empty. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, a tradition he upholded if to give the students a small bit of freedom. Such weekends coincided with evenings the Carrows were to report back to Voldemort and the heavy fog seemed to lift away from the castle for a brief bit of time. Such weekends, he was sure that Minerva tried to catch his eye for any sign left of his humanity. It hurt him to not be able to return any bit of hope; he often times opted to grin cruelly at her as if to say "Look, I won." The whole business made him sick and tired.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks halfway across grounds. Severus took this time to drink from a flask at his side. Harry was gripping his arm rather tightly, so he scanned the grounds and waited. Harry tugged at his arm, yanking him back toward the castle, to which he obliged.

"Strange to see you wandering the grounds, Severus," a soft voice called. Minerva.

Severus hadn't expected this. He took a step forward, coming between her and Harry. "Just on my way in."

Her dark eyes accused him, begged him, spoke volumes. They reminded him they had once been something like friends. _This will be all over soon_, he promised her silently.

"I was on my way to visit Pomona in the greenhouse. We'll be gathering herbs all afternoon to prepare more healing salves for the hospital wing. They've run out, you see." She fixed him with a hard stare. She dared him to look away, to deny who he'd become.

Severus wet his lips. He knew what he was expected to say, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He shrugged. Harry gripped his arm tightly all over again. "If you'll excuse me," he muttered, hurrying past.

Harry returned to their small living space, clearly upset. He prepared a teacup for himself and sat in the floor by his desk, tracing the floral pattern adorned on the china. He stopped asking to go outside.

* * *

Lucius brought firewhiskey later that evening. Severus wasn't pleased.

"You really do need to give yourself more of a break," Lucius purred.

"Well, go on, you drink first," Severus muttered, denying nor confirming the statement. The truth remained that he had kept himself out and alert as often as possible to monitor the Carrows and company. For their part, Potter's group had a good handle on the situation and often acted when he was unable to.

Lucius did, then grinned broadly. Harry looked eagerly between them.

Unsatisfied, Snape stretched out his arm for the bottle. When nothing inconsequential happened from his own sip, he relinquished it to the boy, who braved a swallow, then looked somewhat sick. Lucius's eyes gleamed, fingers roaming along him boldly. Harry squirmed, not looking entirely putout by the affection. Severus wondered if Harry would react the same if it was his hands doing such a thing. He'd probably scream. Severus drank more and watched Harry's cheeks flush red. He narrowed in on his wet lips, his victorious smirk, the sweat starting around his chest. He endured the show long enough for a tumbler-full before retreating to the bed with another cup.

Harry followed after Lucius left, still taking determined sips from the bottle until he sat back heavily. "Sitting up, getting drunk - some savior I turned out to be," he sighed.

Snape shifted over to face him; it took a second for the world to refocus. "You have one task alone, Harry Potter. Nothing more should be expected."

"Oh, you know, just off the Dark Lord. Piece of cake."

"Dumbledore thinks you can do it."

"Dumbledore got beaten by a bloody _ring_," he turned to face him and Severus tried not to notice the proximity. "Do _you_ think I can do it?"

He could hear Dumbledore now, whispering in his ear the end score and the reality struck him hard. Those stubborn green eyes, alive with demands wants and needs and youth- "Yes," he strangled out. "Yes, it will be you and you will succeed."

Tears pricked on the edge and Snape was horrified that his eyes were threatening the same, so he did the only thing he could think of that worked and brought Harry against his chest and buried his face behind his back, whispering lies while he stroked his back and feeling his warmth and had he miscalculated how much he drunk because when he moved away, he was on top of him, and he wasn't sure who leaned in first but they were kissing, oh Merlin, he didn't want to stop because he was so hard and he wanted - oh, he _wanted - _to taste, to touch, to- to-

Except was Harry was pushing against him and he snapped back into reality and he backed away, shaking, Merlin, Agrippa, Circe, Mopsus "I'm sorry," he choked. "oh Merlin, I think I'm drunk, I-"

Harry smiled and okay that was a good sign so he hadn't caused any damage. "Yeah, you're...ah - nevermind, come back- I just- "

"Come back?" he repeated.

Harry plucked the bottle that was between them - how could he not notice it? - and set it on the stand. "It was - er - poking me in the back. That's all."

_Come back_. He felt locked in place, half on the bed, and half-off, and dizzy and Harry was kissing him suddenly and pulling him back - he lost all reason.

"Let's run away from all this madness," he mumbled into his hair, extracting himself from this kissing, fun business, before he did anything more foolish.

* * *

Kissing Severus Snape became Harry's new hobby; and he seemed up to finding new ways to do so at every chance meeting. This morning he woke him up, naked, and wet – fresh from a shower. He wriggled his hips against the man. Sleep-drunk Snape rose to level his gaze with Harry and kissed back, trailing a hand down his front. Harry panted as he paused at his stomach, but oh he _did _want and he wasn't sure why he wouldn't. The boy in his lap was begging him, was going to die anyways, and he was bloody hard. "Not now," he decided, pushing him off, moving to the safety of the bathroom.

Later that evening, Harry surprised him at the door with an eager kiss that he returned gently before removing his winter garments and settling at his desk. Harry sighed but moved to the chair opposing Severus's, settling with some muggle book of Dumbledore's – one that he'd annotated with bits of commentary. Severus tried to the ignore the boy's shoulders, his wrists, the lone curl by his ear. He tried to ignore the smirk, his light breathing. He tried to remember there was a line between right and wrong, but it was becoming more and more blurred.

"Now," he decided.

Harry flushed. He met his gaze. "Here?"

"Anywhere," he murmured, gravitating to him, kissing him in ways he watched Lucius taunting him with, promising to fulfill his every whim at the other's digression, as fast or slow he wanted to take it. Touching, he allowed in aftermath when they lay together at night in the monstrous-sized bed. He would trace the outline of his body, cover his skin with kisses when a frustrated whine escaped and bring him off as many times he required. For once, he didn't dwell on his actions, his motivations – Harry seemed to enjoy it. But it seemed the least he could do. All good things couldn't last.

* * *

A timid knock came on the outer door. Harry bolted up from his perch at the adjoining chair, just as Snape's hand came up to stop him.

"Neville Longbottom, sir!" a voice called from the other end.

The expression on Harry's face was utterly priceless; he wouldn't have sold that hilarious mix of confusion, happiness, suspicion and concentration for 1000 gallons - and he was rather tight on money.

"Come in," Severus said clearly to the door.

"I haven't done anything," Neville hissed when he swung the door open, looking absolutely livid. He was ready for a fight for all but two minutes until he saw Harry Potter in the same room.

"Spare me," Snape sighed. He secured the doors back into place. "Let me stress something very important to the both of you," he muttered, "If I tell you to move, you leap into action. I warrant the two of you have a good hour and I suggest it's spent discussing strategy, rather than exchanging pleasantries."

Harry was too busy embracing the boy to catch what he said, Snape imagined, but he swung open his bedchamber door and allowed the boys privacy, more so he wouldn't have to listen to them to ramble on. Harry could tell him the highlights later, if there was anything interesting for him to know.

* * *

When had Longbottom grown into such a confident brat? When he stood by Harry, arm around him like a protective sibling, their brashness was one in the same. They were more similar now than ever. Both leaders, both stubborn, both laughed like one who had been more accustomed to pain. For that matter, when did Harry Potter lose those round cheeks of youth, and take on the rougher appearance of a man?

When he comes to retrieve them, both stare absently at their feet.

"Oh, how's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"The Carrows are a real _treat_, she's really gotten into the whole healing thing." Neville hand rubbed at his knee almost absentmindedly. "She's... we're all good."

Snape cleared his throat and both boys jumped. "The hour's up."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Can we have one more second?"

Snape goes back to his desk, leaving the door cracked.

"You all right here, though, Harry?" Snape can hear the Longbottom boy ask.

"Absolutely fine, bored out of my mind, but yeah."

He lowers his voice. It doesn't work. "I mean with _him_?"

"Fine," he says firmly. "He's not so bad."

Not-so-bad? Had he finally realized as much or was he just saying it to pacify the twitchy brat? Or perhaps it was coming from their new-found intimacy?

"How long have you _been_ here?"

"Months," Harry replies. They speak more until Neville, satisfied, comes back into the main room with Harry in tow and they arrange for another meeting in three days.

"The plan," Harry tells him, "is that Neville's going to round up Dumbledore's Army. He's going to try and get a message to Ron and Hermione that I'm all right and then try to find the Ravenclaw horcrux, I've explained all I know." His hands are shaking. "Most everything – that the snake needs to be taken care of first."

"And you?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter, does it?" Harry snaps, softens. "All they know is to take care of the snake, then to care of _him _if I don't." He stands up and circles about the room until he's found his way to Severus looking small and lost. "I'm scared," he confines. "I'm really scared."

"I'll take care of you," he promises. "Anything." The last word is murmured against his lips. Harry relaxes into the embrace.

"You always have."

"Not always," he returns stubbornly. "But now. I owe it to you."

"You do?"

Severus isn't sure what he's trying to say exactly but Lucius relieves him by waltzing in as he so pleases. He looks delighted with the position the two are tangled in. Harry grins. Severus holds him possessively. He doesn't share well, but Lucius doesn't seem too put out. They lapse into light drinking, meaningless conversation. When Harry disappears to the loo, Lucius catches him up with DE matters. No, all good things can never last.

* * *

It takes five days after the final plans have been arranged for the radio they've set up on Dumbledore's old desk to crackle and spit into life. "Clouds are rolling, we repeat, clouds are rolling," a voice announces, Fred or George Weasley one. "Lightening will strike." Severus slips Harry his wand, hands him his cloak and walks him to the door. Harry gives him a messy kiss, and then he smiles the Potter smile.

They'd been waiting long enough.


End file.
